Lessons
by losercandy
Summary: A ton of Fem!AU drabbles for ...Rick/Morrison...
1. Party

Rick plays with the hem of her dress, adjusting and smoothing the skirt out over and over. She frets and wonders if she should ring the doorbell again. She combs her hair with her fingers and settles her hands again when she hears movement on the other side. The door opens up wide, a girl with a wide grin on her face is standing in the landing. "Oh hi! Welcome in…" The grin fades a bit as she realizes who it is. "Rick."

"Thanks, Josephine." Rick says, cheerily, stepping over the threshold.

"It's just Jo." The girl says, slamming the door and sulking into the other room.

"Sorry, _Just Jo." _ Rick jokes, not realizing that Jo is walking away. Rick looks around the room, scanning for familiar faces. She smiles and almost jogs to the corner of the room when she recognizes someone.

"Hey, Marty! Hi, Anna!" She says, waving. Marty looks up slowly as he takes a long sip from his drink.

"It's just Ann, actually." She says, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, Rick, and I go by Martin now, remember?" He says in a bored tone.

"Oh, right, right! Sorry, chums." Rick says, wedging herself into the seat between them. "So, what have I missed? This seems like a happening shindig, eh?" She says, scanning the room. Several small groups of people are huddled together in various spots, sipping their drinks and looking bored. There are at least three conversations about Bukowski. The music that's playing is slow and sorrowful, if Rick would have paid attention she would have recognized the tune to "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me". But she isn't paying attention. Because in the opposite corner, she sees another face she knows. A gorgeous angel face with red lipstick. A beautiful face framed by dark brown curls. Rick knows who that is.

"Is that Ms. Morrison?" Rick asks, nudging Martin in the ribs.

"Where?" He asks drowsily, looking out at the room.

"Over there, with the martini."

"Yeah, that's her." He says, turning back to his drink.

"I'm gonna go say hello."

"Okay."

Rick timidly crosses the room, and Ms. Morrison doesn't look up, just sips her martini and looks out towards the room. Rick sits down beside her on the bench.

"H- uhh… Hi there, Ms. Morrison."

"Hel-lo." She says glumly, stirring the olive around her glass.

"Some party, isn't it?"

"Something like that."

"I uh… I didn't know you came to student parties, Ms. Morrison."

"I don't make it a…habit." She says, sipping delicately. "I've been known to show up."

"Ah. I see."

"Showing up to this one was a bit of a mistake." She says, tilting her head back and tipping the rest of the drink into her mouth.

"Really? I-why?"

"Four martinis in, and I'm still not entertained." She says, turning to look at Rick for the first time.

"Are you in one of my classes?"

"Y-yeah. I am I'm in-"

"Would you mind getting me another martini?"

"Oh, of course!" Rick bobs her head enthusiastically, taking the glass from her and rushing out of the room to find the drinks. She doesn't admit that she has no idea how to make a martini. She's sure it can't be that hard. She'll figure it out.

She knows martinis are clear, so she just grabs all the clear things she can find. Gin? Sounds right. Vodka, probably. Water? Why not. She drops a few olives in and figures she's pulled it off. She slogs back through the party, weaving in and out between other party goers, who have now started half-heartedly dancing. Rick spills a little bit of the drink, but she doesn't think anyone will notice. She watches Martin slip on it and fall on his face on his way to the kitchen, but she keeps walking. She doesn't want to keep Ms. Morrison waiting.

She holds the glass out to Ms. Morrison, and she doesn't even look up when she takes it from Rick's hand. She takes a long sip, and Rick watches, patiently.

"You don't know what a martini is, do you?"

"I… guess not. Do-Should I get you a different drink?"

"No, this is fine." She says, drinking it all quickly.

"Should you… drink it that fast?"

"Rick, you don't drink, do you?"

"No, I… I'm not a big fan of uhh…" She searches for a version of her usual speech that wouldn't condemn Ms. Morrison for drinking. She doesn't find one. "I uhh don't like the taste." She says instead.

"Oh. Well, that's an easy fix. Come on, let me make you something. And I'll show you what a martini is."  
She says, standing. She takes Rick's hand and pulls her through the crowd of people milling around, still stuck in their own conversations. Rick really hopes Ms. Morrison can't feel her pulse.


	2. Ericka

[AN: Hey, these don't really have any strict kind of continuity so I guess they're not technically related, even though I have tried to put them in some sort of vague chronology? Whatever, read away, I'm done here.]

* * *

"What is it, Ericka?" She close, she's so close. The scent of her perfume is filling every breath. She's never been this close.

"Actually it's-"

Ms. Morrison glances up from the paper in her hands and makes eye contact with Rick. Rick can't remember how breathing is supposed to work, not in any normal way. She doesn't have the guts to correct her, now.

"It's what?"

"It's about…the assignment?"

"Yes?"

"Can it be uhh… longer than four pages? I know you said there was a four page minimum, but you never said anything…"

Ms. Morrison rises from her chair and walks over to Rick, her high heels clicking against the floor and echoing around the room, reminding Rick how large it is. How alone they are.

"…about page maximum so I was just…"

"Ericka, are you really going to write an essay which is longer than four pages?"

"I…I might."

"Ericka, I don't mean any offense, but I'm having trouble believing you. You barely meet the word count. In fact, on more than one occasion, you've failed to turn in your essays at all."

"I-I told you, my roommate burned them…"

"Really, Ericka. What is really going on?"

"I…"

Ms. Morrison stared at her intently. "Nothing. Nothing is going on. I didn't mean to waste your time." Rick says, turning swiftly to leave.

"Wait."

Rick turns back slowly.

"Why don't you stay for some tea? Since you're already here." Her tone isn't particularly inviting, but her words _are_ an invitation, so Rick walks back into the room and sits, still clutching her notebook to her chest. Rick's boots tap against the floor where she swings her legs gently.

"Do you take any sugar in your tea?"

* * *

She has her pushed against the desk, smell of her shampoo is heavy in Rick's lungs, breath filtered through her hair. Her lips are on Rick's neck, and Rick is reaching out for something. Rick's hands are grabbing at her lapels, and the hem of her skirt, at her sleeves, but she's moving, always moving. It's barely been minutes since class was dismissed, and Ms. Morrison's hands are already up Rick's shirt. Rick takes her face and tilts it up, as well as she can, trying to get her lips to Ms. Morrison's. Trying to take what's hers.

"Mmm. Ericka." She whispers. Rick doesn't have the guts to correct her.


	3. Name

She's got Rick pinned against a blackboard. She loves doing that. Anything to remind herself that she's the teacher. Her hands tear at the buttons on Rick's shirt. She's always there. When it's open she pushes it off Rick's shoulders, pushes the sleeves down to her wrists. She kisses down her collar bone, to her chest, right over her heart, then back up to her neck. Rick knows her first name, but doesn't know when she's allowed to use it. _If_she's allowed to use it. Ms. Morrison is fiddling with the clasp on her bra, she always does that first. Rick has started wearing front-clasping bras to class at her request. It doesn't always pay off. Rick is never sure when it's going to pay off. Rick isn't sure of a lot of things. But she knows her name. Ms. Morrison is kissing at the base of her neck. "Jan." she tries. Ms. Morrison bites down. She reaches up and grabs Rick's hair, pulling her head back at an odd angle.

"Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to see what would happen."

"Verdict?"

"I need to remember that one… for later."

Ms. Morrison lets a sly grin creep onto her face, and lets go of Rick's hair, smoothing it down gently.

"Mmm, good girl." She says, finally unclasping Rick's bra. She doesn't move it off, just lets it hang there. She kisses down the middle line of Rick's chest, collar bone to just above her navel, being careful not to touch anything Rick wants her to touch, not even a brush of contact with her hips or her breasts, just this one solid line, passing over her heart. Ms. Morrison is nothing if not a tease. She levels back with Rick's face, licking her lips quickly before pressing them to Rick's.

"For later." She repeats against her, low and quiet.


	4. Obey

Ms. Morrison runs her hand up Rick's thigh, slowly. Her pace is frustratingly deliberate.

"I thought I told you not to wear this skirt anymore." She reprimands, breath warm on Rick's neck.

"I-I know. I'm sorry. It's just… You told me to wear a skirt, and this is my only one. I'm sorry. Don't-"

"Don't what?"

"Don't…hurt me." Rick whispers, fully aware of how pathetic she sounds. How small she is.

Ms. Morrison laughs, loud and amused, repetitive like chimes in the wind.

"Hurt you? Dear, dear, dear, what do you think of me?" She asks, cupping her hands gently around Rick's face.

"Ericka, I don't want to hurt you. I just want you…" She turns Rick's face away, pressing her into the wall. "To learn your lesson." She gently runs her nails over Rick's exposed neck. Not pressing in, not hurting, but to make Rick aware. They're there. She can use them, if she wants to. She doesn't want to, not yet.

"What lesson?" Rick's voice falls from her, uncertain. A bird leaving the nest when it's not ready.

"To _obey, _Sweetness."


	5. Evidence

Rick nearly trips over Vyvyan on her way into the house. She looks down and sees that Vyvyan has tools in her hands. She's fiddling with something that to Rick appears to be parts of a calculator and half a toaster.

"Is that my calculator?"

Vyvyan stares up at her, mouth slightly agape. "Have you got lipstick on your neck?"

"What? No! How would…Why?"

"Yes, you have." Vyvyan says, standing to inspect.

"Have not!"

"Yes you have, right there." Vyvyan says, pointing. Rick turns to look over her shoulder.

"Where?"

"There!" Vyvyan drags her finger across Rick's neck. Vyv holds her finger towards Rick's face to show her the red smudge. "See?"

"You… You planted that!"

"What?"

"You're trying to frame me!"

"How did you get lipstick on your neck, Rick?"

"Must've uhh… slipped while I was putting it on!" She says, confidently, mentally congratulating herself on a lie well pulled off.

"Rick… You don't own any lipstick."

"I don't?"

"No."

"Damn!"

"So, who's been kissing your neck, Rick?" Vyvyan says, walking closer. Rick tires to back away, but finds the wall is keeping her where she is. "Is he one of those David Bowie types?" Vyvyan looks down at Rick's lips, then her eyes flicker back up. An evil smirk creeps onto her face. "Or did you finally go and snog yourself a proper girl?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I knew you were a lesbo." Vyvyan snickers.

"I am not a lesbian!" Rick says, stomping. "Be_sides, _there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian, Vyvyan. I- I happen to have friends who are lesbians, and they're very lovely."

Rick scans her mind quickly to see if she is in fact, friends with any lesbians. Odds are she knows at least one or two, right? She figures, if she's challenged about it, it'll be easy enough to make some lesbian friends up.

"Fine, not a lesbian. Bisexual. Whatever. It's all semantics, isn't it? You're still a queer." She says, pushing her forearm into Rick's clavicle to pin her to the wall.

"Get off of me, Vyvyan. You're just jealous because I've had a snog and no one has ever wanted to come near you with their lips in your entire miserable life!"

"As if. I've had snogs. I'm a snogging champion."

"I don't believe that! Who the hell has snogged you?"

"Who the hell has snogged _you?!"_

"I-I don't have to tell, cos I've got proof, haven't I?"

"Yeah, well… I don't need proof, cos I know what I've done so… So there." Vyvyan says. A snarl curls up on her lip and she presses her arm harder into Rick's chest. "Stupid virgin."

Rick wants to fight back, wants more than anything to dispute it and put Vyvyan in her place. But all she can hear is Ms. Morrison making her promise over and over again. Punctuating the promises with kisses. Secret. Don't tell. _You won't tell, will you? __**No. **__If you tell, we can't do this anymore. __**I know. **_

Saliva is collecting in her throat with nowhere to go as Vyvyan presses harder, arm sliding up towards her throat.

"Get off me." She chokes out, suddenly defeated. Vyvyan drops her arm a bit, and Rick pushes her the rest of the way off. Vyvyan stumbles back, but doesn't retaliate. Just keeps staring as Rick goes up the stairs, completely baffled by Rick's sudden somber demeanor.


	6. Curse

"You're a bitch." Rick chokes. It slides out quickly, grating on her teeth. She doesn't regret it. She's got bruises between her shoulders to prove it. Pushing, she's always pushing her.

She turns to look at Rick. "Do you really think so?" She says, lightly. Amused. But Rick hasn't managed to escape her wrath completely. She grips her hand around Rick's throat, sliding it up, tilting Rick's chin back. She leans in close, doesn't let their bodies touch, but puts her mouth next to Rick's ear.

"You think you're the first person to tell me that…_today_?" She laughs, and it clots Rick's blood in her veins. "If you ever had an original thought, I'd die of shock." She adds, insult to the injury.

Rick reaches up, prying Ms. Morrison's fingers off her neck and forcing her hand away. She tries to pin it to her side, but doesn't use enough force. Their hands catch in the air between them, fighting for space.

"You're one to talk. Do you even plan lectures any more, or do you find it's best to quote the books directly?"

Ms. Morrison drops her hand and pushes Rick forward again, gently this time. Quiet and soft like she always can be. Like she was in the beginning. "I knew I liked you." She whispers onto Rick's mouth.

Rick can't help but lean in. She loses her fight at this proximity.


	7. Caught

"I know what you do. With her."

Vyvyan's voice rasps out from the dark, and Rick turns toward it, slowly.

Rick sets her pencil down on the desk and examines her options. She can't find any. It's settling into the cracks of her mind that she is neither quick nor confident enough to get away with any evasions.

"How?" She asks, turning her chair, but not looking up at Vyvyan. She can't bring herself to look past her feet.

"Saw."

"What?" Rick's eyes fly to her face in panic.

"Well, not me. One of my mates…"

Rick rubs her hands up and down her face. A sigh leaves her from every corner of her body, pressure releasing and giving way to something harder to push away. She feels it rising up inside her. She never meant for it to go this far, not like this. It wasn't supposed to make her feel like this. This weak. Getting weaker. Crying in front of Vyvyan. Weakest.

She gulps down air so she can force words out through the cracks of her fingers, slipping feebly into the air. "Who knows? How many people know?"  
She feels the weight slipping on around her neck, dragging her down. Noose. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It's always like this. The brief moments with Ms. Morrison's hands on her body, breath on her skin, small reprieves. She's always checking over her shoulders now. Feeling it chase her. And it wasn't enough. They weren't careful enough.

"No-no one. Just me and Liv… Liv is the one who… But she's such a pisshead though, no one will believe her."

"So why did you believe her?"

"Cos something has been up with you and it… Made sense."

"Why do you care? Why did you bring it up? Are you- are you…"

"I won't tell anyone. I don't want…" Vyvyan steps further into the room, the dim lamp light from Rick's desk illuminates her face. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you. _Her_, though…"

Rick leans her head onto the desk and tries to breathe, tries to make herself believe that it's okay. But if some thick headed punk saw them, then there were bound to be others. How long before it caught up with her?

"Is that um… Is that why…Because of her?"

Rick closes her eyes. Wills her words into the woodgrain rather than Vyvyan's ears. Anywhere except Vyvyan's ears, but she still won't leave it unanswered.

"I have other reasons not to kiss you, Vyvyan."

Vyvyan's hand flexes into a fist. She leans away from Rick.

"I see."

Rick listens to her walk out of the room. Wills her words to find her this time, make it to her. Please make it to her.

"I'm sorry."


	8. Call

"What are you wearing?" Ms. Morrison breathes down the line, voice low and nearly fading into a growl.

"You know what I'm wearing." Rick chuckles, unsure and still feeling too modest, after everything. Still shy and floundering.

"I know, but I want you to tell me."

Rick bites her lip and thinks, because she's still not sure about the rules on this. She runs her pinky finger along the smooth lacquer of the telephone, black and shiny and brand-fucking-new. A gift. One of many gifts, lately. Most of them black.

"Er… I'm wearing em… Well, I'm wearing what you bought for me."

"I want you to describe it."

"You know what it-"

"Oh, come on dear, play along."

"Okay. Okay um…" Rick shifts and looks down at herself. She tries to read Ms. Morrison's mind but it's difficult to figure out what she's thinking even when she's right in front of your face. "Like how?"

"Like I haven't seen them before. And I want to know how they _feel._"

Rick's breath shudders on the word 'feel' and she has to pinch her own thigh to keep herself in the moment. She closes her eyes tight to collect her thoughts, then looks at herself again.

"Alright. I-I'm wearing these em panties and they are er black and-and they have this sort of lace stuff at the top and err there's a little bow, a teeny weeny bow on them and… I'm wearing a bra that eh well it matches them… it's sort of the same really."

"How do they _feel, _Erika?"

"Th-hey fe…feel…" Rick breathes raggedly. "They're eh silky sort of so they feel just… They feel soft and nice and sort of coolish. You know how silk feels. Probably. You do don't you?" Rick laughs awkwardly "Of course you do, of course you do. How silly of me. Like you wouldn't kno-"

"Erika."

"Sorry."

"That's alright. Are you enjoying them?"

"Emm… Yes. Yes ma'am."

"You going to wear them to the lecture?"

"If you…if you want me to."

"Promise me no one else is going to see them."

"I-"

"Promise?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I might have another present for you soon, if you behave."

"Really?"

"I have to go now, Erika. Hide the phone, alright? Like we talked about. You can call me again next week."

Ms. Morrison hung up without another word. Rick put the receiver down and unplugged the phone's chord. She wrapped it up and shoved it under her bed, then stuffed the phone into a box in her wardrobe. Ms. Morrison was right. If she was found in possession of a phone that nice, it'd be suspicious. She only hoped she could intercept the bills before any of the other girls saw them.


	9. Bed

"Oh, I can't believe I've got you here. Finally. Finally properly on a bed." Ms. Morrison says excitedly, looming above her. She looks so polished, like she always does, perfectly made up and wearing a thin silk slip. "They look so _good_ on you." She whispers, running her fingers along the edge of Rick's black panties.

"Yeah, you've… You've got a good eye for these things." Rick says, with an unsure smile. Her heart is hammering. Ms. Morrison had such nice taste in hotels. Rick can't believe for one second where she is, how soft the sheets are, how intense Ms. Morrison's eyes are.

"So I've been told." Ms. Morrison says, leaning down to kiss her. She slides her hand into Rick's underwear, and feels her gasp lightly. Ms. Morrison smiles against her neck. "Yeah, go on, dear. Keep gasping." She eggs on, as if Rick could control it. Rick reaches up and steadies herself by grabbing at Ms. Morrison's waist. She leans up and smiles down at Rick. Rick moans and moves her hand up Ms. Morrison's slip, moving for her white lace panties. Ms. Morrison stops and slaps Rick's hand away.

"Ericka, we've _talked _about this." She scolds.

"I just want to-" Rick says, breathlessly. She's stopped by the look on Ms. Morrison's face.  
"Why can't I? What do you get out of this?" she asks.

Ms. Morrison leans closer to Rick's face, smoothing some hair away from her eyes. "I get something to look at. You're so pretty and…" Ms. Morrison runs her hand down Rick's neck, to her chest and squeezes her breast gently. Rick makes a small, startled noise in her throat. "You just make the cutest noises. Nicholas just doesn't make noises like that. It's something nice to think about, or else I'd get too bored."

Rick shifts. "Nicholas? Do you mean Professor Farmer? You're…Wait, you're…"

Ms. Morrison furrows her brow. "Well, _Ericka, _I really don't see why you sound so confused. I thought it was pretty common knowledge that I was seeing Nick."

"I didn't…I just didn't think that you… I mean I thought it was over I thought you…"

"Sweetheart… Darling…" She examines Rick's face. She looks so positively sweet and stupid and pretty, laying on the lavender pillows, pouting, her eyes welling up slightly. This sort of oblivious arrogance was why she'd picked her in the first place.

"You could have a boyfriend too, if you wanted, you know."

"But I don't."

Ms. Morrison is slightly taken aback by Rick's forthright reply.

"Or a girlfriend." She retorts.

"That's not what I meant."

"Ericka, don't ruin this." Ms. Morrison says, running her hand up Rick's thigh. She presses her mouth against Rick's briefly. "Just let me do what I know you want me to." She says, quietly.

Rick's eyes close and her breath comes out in a shuddering sigh. "You have to let me touch you." She says, running her hand up to Ms. Morrison's hip. "I'm not just your pornography." _Not anymore. _She thinks.

A few months ago, Rick never would have tried something like this. Never would have said anything or asked anything. Ms. Morrison thought briefly, that she might have let this go on too long. That she might be showing her hand. The balance of power was shifting slightly, and that was when she always called it off but… Something about Ericka… Ericka was timid. It was at the core of her being. She was a suck up. She would always cave in to authority if the situation was strained enough. Ms. Morrison had seen it plenty of times before.

"You're whatever I want you to be. And you know that, don't you?"

Ms. Morrison guided Rick's other hand up to the small of her back. "Touch me, kiss me, do whatever you want, Ericka." She said, deciding it wouldn't hurt to let her have a little fun. "Just don't get in my way."


End file.
